Picture This
by bxdwxlfbxy
Summary: Amy Pond is a young photojournalist in a shaky relationship. When she meets David Smith, the head photojournalist, she develops an immediate dislike for him - and he for her. When they're forced to work together with Amy's new job position, they're left with no option but to get along with one another. (AU, eventual TenxAmy)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Amy Pond was at a work Christmas party, and very, very uncomfortable.

Yes, she loved her job as a photojournalist for _Gallifrey_. Yes, she'd gone at the insistence of her cousin River, who thought she didn't get out enough. Yes, she'd thought it might be fun.

But she didn't know _anyone _there.

Amy had never realized that she was so devoted to her work that she'd never made friends at work. Well, she was paying the price for that now, she thought wryly, looking around the room at all the vaguely-familiar faces.

So there she stood, feeling more uncertain than she'd been on her first day here – and that was saying something – and wondering if it had really been worth it to come. She was on the verge of calling her boyfriend Rory to come get her when she remembered that they weren't really on speaking terms.

oOoOo

Amy's mobile was ringing.

She had ignored it the past two times it had gone off – she was, after all, working on editing some very important photographs – but the third time was when she caved. She reached across her desk and snatched it up, flipping it open and holding it up to her ear without bothering to check who it was. "Hello?"

"Amy, where are you?" came Rory's voice. He sounded very, very concerned. "This is the third time I've called!"

"I'm workin' at home," she said irritably, running a hand through her long ginger hair. "Where else would I be?"

It was several seconds before Rory replied. "…At DelGiano's. Where I made reservations. For our date. At seven o'clock." His voice was short – not blatantly angry, that wasn't Rory's style – but terse. "It's ten, Amy. I've been waiting for three hours."

Amy jumped. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry, Rory! I just…" She fumbled for words. "I…"

"You forgot. Again. Yeah, I know," he said.

She bit her lip. "Rory, I'm sorry."

"Of course you are," he muttered, and Amy barely caught the words through the phone.

"I really am!" she insisted. "I just have a lot of work to catch up on, and…" She trailed off. She knew she'd used that excuse before.

"I have work too, you know, Amy," he said, and she could hear his frustration. "I had to trade shifts with _Brodsky _to make this date possible. Now I have a night shift to – you know what, forget it. It's not like you care."

She gritted her teeth, leaning back in her chair. "Why would you think I don't care?"

He gave a little chuckle of disbelief. "Because apparently a bunch of pictures and a paycheck are more important."

She tensed. She was this close to losing her temper, and she – "I'm really sorry, Rory. I'll make it up to you, yeah? We'll go out again." She knew how strained her voice sounded, but she hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Yeah? Just like we'll go to Paris sometime, too. Just like you'll come to meet my family sometime. I know how you prioritize things, Amy. I'm always at the bottom of the list."

Amy held the phone away from her and took a deep breath through clenched teeth. She felt like screaming, but she _would _stay controlled. She would.

With another deep breath, she brought her mobile back to her ear. "Rory? I'm gonna hang up now, okay?" She was trying to keep her voice very, very calm.

It wasn't working.

"I'll talk to you later," she added.

"Yeah, fine," Rory replied numbly. Before he hung up, even though he was angry and slighted, he ended the call in his customary way. "Love you. Bye."

Then came the _click _as he hung up.

oOoOo

"Where is your camera?" a woman's voice asked suddenly.

Amy blinked, and suddenly she was back at her work. The Christmas party. Right. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I asked you where your camera is," the woman said.

Amy looked up at her. "S'in my car," she replied. "Wait, aren't you –"

The woman held up a badge. "Harriet Jones, Editor-in-Chief," she stated firmly, then put it away. "You _are _one of our photojournalists, are you not?"

"I – I am," she stammered. "I didn't know I needed to bring my camera in…"

"You always have your camera on you. Understand? You eat with your camera. You sleep with your camera. Your camera is your life."

Amy blinked again, swallowing. "Uh… y-yes, ma'am," she said awkwardly.

Harriet Jones suddenly smiled. "That said, there's someone I'd like to introduce you to."

Amy perked up. "Okay, lead the way." Maybe this was her chance to make her first friend at work.

Harriet Jones led her over to a high table where a man sat – or lounged, rather. "Mr. David Smith, this is the young photojournalist I was telling you about. Amelia Pond, this is Mr. Smith, the head photojournalist."

Amy resisted the urge to bite her lip as she looked at Mr. Smith. He was lanky and seemed tall, probably three or four inches taller than herself. He had a shock of brown hair that looked like it usually stuck out everywhere, but was at the moment mostly slicked down. He was wearing a creamy white suit, a white Oxford, a pink-and-blue swirly tie, and thick black glasses, which he removed as he glanced up at her. His dark brown eyes narrowed.

"You didn't tell me she was a woman," he commented to Harriet Jones, as if Amy wasn't standing right there. His voice was low, faintly tinged with a Scottish brogue, and a little rough, like he'd been shouting lately.

Amy stiffened. "You didn't say I was a woman?" she said incredulously, turning to Harriet Jones.

"A minor omission," she brushed it off. "It doesn't matter on a business level, not in this day and age. Why, a woman could become Prime Minister if she wanted to!"

Mr. Smith did not look impressed. "Uh-huh."

Harriet Jones glared at him. "I am still your boss, Mr. Smith, as you'd do well to remember." She was about to continue, but someone called for her, and with an "excuse me" she hurried off.

Amy stood there for a second, fidgeting. _Get it together, Pond, _she thought. _You're not a teenager anymore. Just because he's hot… and anyway, you've got Rory. _She wasn't sure about this last part, but it helped a bit – enough to get her to speak, anyway.

"Hello."

Mr. Smith barely glanced at her. "Don't bother. Harriet always has big plans for people who can't achieve them." He swirled his drink in the bottom of his glass.

Amy's face flushed. "Oh, yeah? What makes you so sure I can't?" she demanded, crossing her arms.

He raised his glass up, but looked at her before drinking. "'Cause you're just like the rest: small town girl with big city dreams. You'll never make it." He downed a mouthful. "An' besides," he added, setting down his glass, "you're Scottish."

"What does being Scottish have to do with it?!"

He snapped his fingers, pointing at her. "Exactly."

Amy was disliking this man more and more as they talked.

She scowled. "I'll tell you, Mr. Smith, that I am perfectly confident in my abilities as a photojournalist. And you shouldn't go putting me down just 'cause I'm Scottish. An' anyway, have you even _seen _any of my work?"

He smiled slowly, then chuckled. "Then again, maybe you do have some potential."

She laughed, sardonic. "Yeah, maybe."

Mr. Smith tilted his head from side to side, considering. "That's a very _big_ maybe, though."

"Well, you'll just have to give me a chance, then." She sat down beside him.

He looked at her, eyes narrow, as if he was trying to work out something in his head. She stared back, not at all intimidated by his intense gaze.

Okay, maybe she was a little intimidated.

But she wasn't one to let things like that show.

He stared at her for a moment longer, then shrugged. "Maybe," he said, mostly to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Hello everyone! I'm so glad to see that you all are enjoying the story so far. Thank you to alliballisalli and HaleyBlack'Cile'coldfire for reviewing; GallifreyFallsNoMore, The Doctor's Charlene, alliballisalli, wolflink123, and yfire for favoriting; and HaleyBlack'Cile'coldfire and yfire for following! Also thanks to tardisfeels and brattusmaximus on Instagram for letting me know what you thought!

Special thanks to my best friend Sarah, who helps me write about half the characters! I love you Sarah!

I hope you enjoy Chapter Two!

-bxdwxlfbxy

* * *

**Chapter Two**

The next day was the 23rd of December, and Amy woke up at 10:04 a.m. with a horrible sense of clarity about her attraction to Mr. Smith. Immediately after getting up and pulling on her sweatshirt, she picked up her mobile and texted River, Rose, and Clara.

**hey. can u all come over? I'll make tea. I have a serious problem.**

It took precisely three minutes before the doorbell rang. Amy walked over to the door and opened it to see Rose and Clara standing there. Clara looked incredibly sleepy, her dark hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Rose looked much more alert, wearing a workout suit and a worried expression. "What's wrong?" she blurted out.

"Come in and have some tea while we wait for River," Amy instructed, stepping aside and holding the door open.

Rose pressed her lips together but obeyed. "S'everyone okay?" she couldn't help but ask as she sat down.

"Yeah, yeah, everyone is fine," Amy assured her as Clara plodded in and flopped down on the couch, yawning and curling up like a cat. Amy headed into the kitchen and poured four cups of tea, calling, "How d'you two want it?"

"Just a little cream for me," came Clara's voice.

"Oh, just 'ow it is'll be fine," Rose called.

"Right." Amy carried the two cups out to her friends after stirring cream into Clara's and handed them each their tea. "Here you go."

The door opened without ring or knock, and River stepped inside. She came in and kissed Amy's cheek, then set a rather large bottle of wine on the coffee table. "This calls for something stronger than tea, sweetie," she told Amy.

"You don't even know what it is yet!" Amy cried, then added, "And it's bloody 10 in the morning!"

"Hi, River," Clara said, giving her a sleepy smile and sipping her tea.

"Hello, sweetie," she replied, pulling out a corkscrew. "And wine should never be limited to a time, don't you think?" She opened the bottle with a loud pop.

Rose shrugged. "I'm game."

"I'll get some wine glasses," Amy grumbled, but once she was in the kitchen, she let herself smile. From the kitchen she could hear the other three talking in hushed voices, but she couldn't make out the words. She brought out the four wine glasses and poured some in each glass. She handed them out, then sat cross-legged on the rug in front of the couch, facing her three best friends.

"Well?" River asked, raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of her wine.

After downing a gulp of hers, Clara seemed much more awake. "Tell us what's wrong," she said, eyes wide with concern.

Amy took a deep breath. "I think I have a..." She bit her lip. "An... attraction to someone I met at work."

River chuckled softly. "That's called being a woman, dear."

Clara looked shocked. "What about Rory?" she said.

Amy winced at the mention of her boyfriend. "I know, I know! And this guy is a bloody idiot. But..."

"But you've got feelings for him," River said. "Feelings that perhaps you don't have for your current boyfriend?"

"No. I...love Rory." She hesitated on this, drumming her fingers against her knee. She looked at Rose to see how her friend was taking it.

"Yeah?" the blonde said quietly.

Amy swallowed. "Yeah," she echoed.

"Honey, I like Rory. I really do. He's a nice boy. But what you need is a _man_," River told her.

Amy groaned, taking a long drink of her wine.

Clara looked anxious. "I think you should try to work things out with him," she advised.

Rose shifted. "So tell us about this mystery coworker," she said. "Might 'elp you work 'fings out."

"His name is David Smith," Amy started, but before she could go any further Clara interrupted her.

"Wait. _David Smith? _As in, my boyfriend Matt's brother?"

"And Chris's brother," Rose added, then her cheeks coloured and she looked as if she wished she hadn't said anything. "S'a small world."

Amy stared at both of them. "Wait. He is?!"

Clara nodded. "Yeah. I've never met him, though. Apparently he's really mysterious."

Amy snorted. "Sounds like him."

River raised her eyebrow again, looking at her cousin. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. He's a bloody idiot," she repeated her words from earlier. Then she blushed. "But hot."

River smirked. "Sounds like my kinda guy," she said, eyebrow still quirked upward. "You go, Amy."

Amy blushed harder. "Shut up, River."

"Why s'he an idiot, though?" Clara questioned, leaning forward.

Amy huffed. "Where to begin? He's closed-off, arrogant, and stuck-up, _and_ he said I wouldn't make it in photojournalism because I'm _Scottish."_ She took another drink of her wine.

Rose moved the wine bottle out of Amy's reach. "But you still like 'im," she said.

"Yeah. He's _reeeally_ attractive." She gave a half-smile. "And, I dunno, he's gonna give me a chance. He said maybe I'd make it after I told him off. And besides, I think Harriet Jones is gonna have us work together after Christmas."

Rose smiled. "So he'll be sticking 'round, then, yeah?"

"Only when he has to, I'm sure," Amy replied, her smile disappearing and a very Amy-ish scowl returning to her face.

Clara frowned. "I still think you should try to fix your relationship with Rory. All the same, I'll stick by you no matter what you choose to do, yeah?"

"Thanks, Clara." Amy was hoping it wasn't too late for her and Rory. She liked him well enough, but she just wasn't sure if he was the right one for her.

"Jus' make sure you don't miss out on an opportunity," Rose added.

Amy nodded. "River? What d'you think?"

"Oh, sweetie. You know what I think," River said, then winked. "I just wanna see if he's as hot as you say he is."

oOoOo

That evening, Amy was feeling lonely. Rose and River were both working, and Clara was out with Matt. With nothing else to do, she finally gave in and called Rory.

"Hel-lo?" he answered his phone.

"Rory. It's me," she said.

"Hi," he said, a little dryly.

"You wanna do something? Like..." She twisted a piece of hair around her finger. "I dunno. Something. Like go out. Or you could come over."

There was a pause, during which Amy could hear him shift. "I don't know if I can tonight," he said flatly.

She sighed. "Please, Rory. I'm really sorry about last week. I wanna make it up to you. So will you please come over, if you can?"

"I have a pretty busy schedule this week," he said. "I have the a.m. shift tomorrow. And Dad wants me over sometime to help him with the garage."

Amy flopped down on the couch. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I have a bunch of paperwork to catch up on," he said.

She closed her eyes. "Okay," she said quietly, trying unsuccessfully to hide the disappointment in her voice.

There was another pause, and Amy could hear him pacing. "I'll be there in ten. See you soon. Love you, bye." And he hung up.

She grinned broadly, setting her mobile down on the couch next to her and turning on the telly while she waited. In almost exactly ten minutes, there was a knock at the door.

She opened it, and not only was Rory standing there, he was holding a bouquet of flowers. "I brought you these," he said. "Sorry about earlier."

She blushed. "Oh, Rory," she said, pulling him inside and planting a kiss on his lips. "They're beautiful. I'll get a vase," she added, heading into the kitchen.

He smiled and followed her. The wine bottle from that morning was on the counter, half empty. "River was over?" Rory guessed.

She laughed. "River, and Rose, and Clara. But River brought the wine."

"Sounds like her," he said with almost a laugh.

"Yeah. I told her I was making tea, but nooo. She had to bring the wine." She rolled her eyes, not mentioning that she had actually been very grateful for that bottle of wine.

Rory nodded. "Yep. That's River."

Amy got a vase out of the cupboard. She took it over to the sink and filled it about a third of the way with water, then went over and took the flowers from him, putting them in the vase and carrying them out to the living room.

Again, he followed. "So…"

"So? You wanna get, like, pizza or takeout or something? Just hang out here?" After setting the flowers down on the coffee table, she turned to look at him.

He shrugged. "Sounds fine. Whatever you want to do."

"Okay." She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion beside her, picking up her mobile and dialing the number for the pizza place.

He sat down and looked at her. "Make sure you get cheese," he mouthed.

"I know," she mouthed back, straightening up when she heard the pleasant voice on the other end.

"Hi, thank you for calling Jones's Pizza. My name is Martha. What can I get for you tonight?"

"Um, yeah, one large cheese pizza, please," Amy replied.

Rory made a motion with his hands which she couldn't for the life of her interpret. "What?" she hissed, covering the end of the phone with her hand.

"Make sure you get the dipping sauce," he whispered, making the motion again, which she now saw was supposed to be pizza being dipped.

"Oh. Oh!" She quickly took her hand away from the phone. "And the dipping sauce," she said quickly.

"Right," said the woman on the other end cheerfully. "Will that be for carry-out or delivery?"

"Uhm, delivery, please."

"Oh, tell them that 51st Street is closed for repairs!" Rory whispered hurriedly.

She shot him a look as she gave Martha her address and name, adding Rory's warning at the end, and hung up after a "Thank you" from the other end.

Rory nodded and tried a smile. "Hopefully it takes them quicker than last time."

"Yeah." Noticing his unease, she scooted a little closer. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yes I'm fine," he said, perhaps a little too quickly.

Amy wrapped her arm around him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "No, you aren't."

His arm fell automatically in place around her, but he still seemed a little stiff. He sighed slightly. "How are we, Amy?"

"What do you mean?" Her heartbeat quickened nervously, and she lifted her head to look at him.

He looked at her right back. "We. Us. How are we?"

She bit her lip. "You're still mad at me 'cause of last week, aren't you?"

"Mad? No. But I've been thinking..." He cleared his throat.

"About what?" She was panicking. She couldn't help it.

He sighed heavily. "I can't do this, Amy."

She sat up quickly, staring at him. "You can't do what?"

"This. Look, Amy," he spoke very quickly now, "I already know that I love you more than you love me. Basic fact of our relationship. But lately I've wondered if you even like me at all."

"Of course I like you!" she cried. Yes, she was attracted to David, but that didn't mean that she didn't want to try to fix things with Rory.

"Yeah, but not –" He sighed again. "I want more, Amy. I want a more...permanent...relationship."

She froze. A permanent relationship? He couldn't mean –

"And I know you don't want that." He paused. "Where does that leave us?"

She swallowed hard. "I...don't know," she admitted.

Rory nodded. "Yeah," he said, looking away.

"It's not that I don't _ever_ want a...permanent relationship." Amy tried to swallow again, but her mouth felt dry. "I just... Right now, I'm not ready for that kind of...commitment."

He nodded. "I _can_ wait," he said earnestly. "I _want_ to wait if it's for you. But I just... I just need to know if that's a possible future."

As she was desperately struggling to find an answer, she was saved by a knock on the door. She got up quickly and went to answer it. A pretty, dark-skinned girl was standing outside the door. "Delivery for Amy?" she said.

"That's me," Amy replied, smiling and taking the box. "How much?"

The girl - she must have been Martha - named the price and Amy paid, adding a tip. "Thank you," the former said with a smile. "Have a nice night."

"And you," Amy said with a nod, closing the door and carrying the pizza over to Rory.

He sat up and leaned forward to open the box. When he did, Amy smirked. "Look, they put the dipping sauce in there."

"Ha-ha, yes!" he said triumphantly, although it sounded very forced.

She leaned over and cupped his face in her hands, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Hey. Can we just relax? Be like normal?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, we can do that." He leaned forward and kissed her again, then pulled away and turned to the pizza.

"Do you want a plate?" Amy asked, getting up.

"Sure," he replied, then added, "Thanks."

She went to the kitchen to get a couple plates and brought them back out, sitting down on the couch. She handed one to Rory and grabbed a slice of pizza.

"Thanks," he said again, taking a slice for himself.

"No problem." She took a big bite of her pizza. "Mmm. This is awesome. I should order from there more often," she mumbled.

"Yeah," Rory agreed, taking advantage of the dipping sauce. "So... How come River and them were over this morning?"

Amy almost choked on her pizza. "Oh...you know," she said after swallowing rather painfully. "Girl...stuff."

"Ah," Rory said, looking uncomfortable. He took a huge bite of his pizza.

"Yeah. Just a...thing. You know how we girls are."

"Hmm, sort of. Yeah, no," he joked, smiling.

She laughed. "It was nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Oh you know me," he said lightly. "Mr. Worry-free."

Amy giggled again, leaning against him and taking another bite of her pizza. This was nice. Being with Rory was nice. She made up her mind right then to forget about this stupid attraction to Mr. Smith. Because even if she didn't love Rory, she quite liked him. And maybe she'd learn to love him.

It would just take some time.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Hey again! Two chapters in one day? I know, I know! But we write fast. ;D

Thanks to Tokala for favoriting and reviewing! Also thanks to tardisfeels on IG!

And as always, thank you, Sarah!

In this chapter, we see that Jack and Amy should definitely not be allowed to spend time together, as well as more banter with David and Amy. I hope you enjoy, and as always, please review!

-bxdwxlfbxy

* * *

**Chapter Three**

That Christmas was a fairly normal one. Amy got Clara a cute dark blue dress she just knew her friend would love. She bought Rose a new set of paints and brushes. She was completely at a loss for what to get River and ended up buying her a black jumper, which her cousin fortunately liked.

Rose and Clara had gotten together and knitted her the most beautiful thick scarf: grey, red, yellow, green, and purple and over twelve feet long.

River had, predictably, gotten her a bottle of wine.

Rory gave her a diamond-and-gold necklace and a matching pair of earrings; she had no idea how he'd managed to get the money to buy them. When he gave them to her, she kissed him.

oOoOo

The day after Christmas, Amy was sitting at her desk and going through some papers when Harriet Jones walked up to her desk. The redhead looked up. "Good morning, Mrs. Jones," she said.

"Congratulations, Amelia Pond," she said, holding out her hand. "You've just been promoted."

Amy stared at her boss. "What? No way!" She let out an incredulous laugh, standing up quickly and shaking Harriet Jones's hand.

She beamed at Amy. "The paperwork has just been filed. You are now the assistant head photojournalist of Gallifrey."

"Assistant? That means I'll be working with Mr. Smith?" Her stomach jumped a little, and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"Yes. He requested you, actually."

Amy's eyebrows shot up, eyes widening. "He _requested_ me? He requested... _me?_"

Harriet Jones laughed. "Apparently you make quite an impression. This way." She started toward the lift.

Amy gathered up her camera bag and portfolio and hurried after her boss. Despite the thrill of being promoted, she couldn't help but worry. She'd be working in very close quarters with David now that she'd been promoted, and she was wondering just _how_ she was meant to forget her attraction to him.

Harriet Jones led her up to an office room with glass walls and opened the door, ushering her inside. David was already there, seated at his desk, and was in the middle of drinking a mug of something - probably coffee - when they entered. He glanced over at them, making a small sound in the back of his throat and swallowing. He set down his mug and nodded at each of them. "Good morning, Harriet. Amelia."

"I'll let you get to it," Harriet said. "And I expect a report on my desk by tomorrow morning." She turned and headed out the door.

Amy watched her go, then shouldered her bag and turned back to David. "Good morning," she said, hoping she sounded friendly.

He was wearing a brown suit with light blue pinstripes, a light blue Oxford, and a dark brown-and-blue striped tie. His hair stuck up and was rather messy, which she found rather cute, and he was wearing those thick black glasses again.

"Morning. I trust Harriet filled you in on the situation?" he said, taking up his mug again and leaning back in his chair.

"All she said was that you requested me to be the 'assistant head photojournalist'," she told him, sitting down in the chair beside his desk.

"Just fired the last one. She was a flake," he said unsympathetically. "I think I just might be able to work with you, though. We'll see. Your work is pretty decent, considering your...somewhat limited experience."

"I can already tell this is going to be fun," Amy muttered, crossing her legs.

"Oh, heaps of fun," he said, winking at her.

Heat rushed to her face. Was he _flirting _with her? She cleared her throat, looking down at her lap and lifting a hand to play with the necklace Rory had given her.

"That's an expensive piece of jewelry," David commented. "Where'd you get it?"

She glanced up at him. "It was a Christmas present from my boyfriend," she said.

He didn't seem fazed in the least. "He must be well-to-do."

"Not really," she said with a little, affectionate smile. "I still don't know how he managed to afford this."

"As interesting your love life might be," he said with a tone of long-suffering, "we have work to do." He pulled out a file from the desk drawer.

"You're the one who asked," she retorted, leaning forward to see the file.

"First mistake," he muttered, opening it up.

oOoOo

Amy leaned against David's desk, drinking a cup of coffee. It was break time, and he had gone off somewhere – where, he hadn't said. Probably to talk to one of his friends. Did he have friends? She wasn't sure. He didn't seem friendly enough.

She was distracted from her thoughts when a rather good-looking man with brown hair and blue eyes walked right up to her.

"I heard that an attractive girl started working with David. Didn't quite believe it til now," he said with a distinctive American accent and a wide grin. He held out his hand. "Captain Jack Harkness."

She raised an eyebrow and smirked, shaking his hand. "Amy Pond. Um, 'Captain'?" she questioned.

"Her Majesty's Royal Navy," he said, still grinning.

"Nice to meet you, Captain Jack." She released his hand and picked up her coffee cup, taking another sip.

"Likewise. I should buy you a drink sometime, Amy," he said, leaning on the edge of the desk.

She raised a warning hand, almost choking on her coffee as she laughed. "I've got a boyfriend," she giggled, setting down her cup.

"Yeah, and? I do too." He raised his eyebrows high, grinning flirtatiously.

She covered her mouth to stifle her laughter, leaning back against the desk. "And what would he say if you took me out for a drink?"

Jack shrugged. "What you don't know can't hurt you."

"Jack!" She nudged him, smirking. "I disapprove."

He laughed. "I'll take that as a maybe."

She winked. "Stay tuned for a definite answer. I'll need your number before I can be sure, Captain."

He took out a business card and penned a mobile phone number on the back. "Here you are, ma'am," he said, handing it to her.

She leaned over and tucked the card into her camera bag. "Thank you," she said with a grin.

Jack grinned back, and was about to say something when David stepped into the office. "What are you doing here, Jack?" he asked, frowning.

"I was just saying hello," Jack said innocently.

"No. Jack, out," David said warningly.

Amy stifled a giggle as Jack sighed and headed out the door of the office, giving her a reluctant wave as he went. "See ya, Captain," she called after him.

"Oh, don't tell me you actually bought into that 'Captain' bluff," David muttered.

She gave him a look. "Who said I did?"

"You just did," he said.

"No, I didn't."

"Either that, or you were flirting with him," David said with a look of disapproval.

"I was just being friendly."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure your boyfriend would love to know how 'friendly' you're being."

She glared at him now. "Why do you even care?"

"Because I know Jack. He's trouble. Trust me on this."

"Maybe I like trouble." Amy leaned a little closer to him, staring him down.

He stared at her right back. After a few moments, he shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

She snorted. "I'm just kidding. He's nice-looking enough but not my type. Honestly."

David held up his hands. "Okay, okay. Let's just get back to work."

oOoOo

"See you tomorrow, Amelia," David said, stacking up the papers. It was after-hours, and Amy was just collecting her things to leave.

"It's Amy," she corrected without thinking, then inwardly groaned.

She _never _went by Amy at work, at least not to anyone but her friends. Her bosses always knew her by Amelia. That was just the way it worked with her. And David was definitely _not_ a friend.

"What?"

"Nothing," she muttered, face red as she turned to leave.

Right before she stepped out of the room, he called, "Good night, Amy." She could just hear the smirk in his voice.

She whirled around, glaring at him. "That's _Amelia _to you."

He smiled at her patronizingly. "If you say so."

Her glare intensified as she stepped back into the office. "I only let my friends call me Amy."

"Is that your way of keeping people in their place?" he asked, that stupid smile still on his face.

By way of answer, she snapped, "Stop looking at me like that."

"Nothing is keeping you here," he said, leaning back in his chair.

She lifted her chin, smirking. "See you tomorrow, _David._"

"Til then," he replied, watching her as she walked out. He waited until the door was nearly closed behind her to add, "… Amy."


End file.
